Thursday, June 13, 2013

This illustration, by Matt Curtis, is from chapter 16 in book #3, “The Saeshell Book of Time Part 3: Paradise Lost”. In
this scene, Paul25 is showing someone the memory of him being a 1600’s
sailing ship cabin boy to prove he’s been alive for one-thousand-years.
His captain, who he was been taking care of, was dying of Tuberculosis.
Here is an excerpt from book #3 of the story surrounding this
illustration. Do you like this? {The scene changes and the
captain is sitting up against a mooring post of the dock in the deserted
darkness, gasping for breath. A little finely made wooden box is next
to him. Paul25 is sitting on the ground, tearfully wiping the captain’s
forehead with a damp handkerchief.

A rough-looking man walks up to the captain. “Let me see whatcha got in that there box.”

The man pulls out a knife; Paul25 points his finger at the man—a
lightning bolt with the intensity of the core of Zeus burns its way
through the air, plummeting into the assailant’s heart. His body erupts
with thousands of tiny sparks, sizzling and crackling like the hairs of
death; he wails in a cracking voice as the terrified child within dies
in a searing fit. He leaps into the air, slamming the ground, and begins
to flop around like a freshly caught fish until the stillness of the
North Atlantic cold overtakes him.

“I’m dun fur lad,” groans
the captain, in agony. “Now I know why ya been such a good cabin boy.
Ye’s a sea fairy. I always hoped I’d see one. When I’m dun, ye take my
box. Git some good man to show ya how to use it. You can sail the seas.
I’d know you’d be a good captain, you would.”

Paul25 says, “You can’t die here now, alone.”

The captain takes Paul25’s hand with his shaking hand. “I’m not alone.
Ye’s always been me faithful sea fairy. Ye’s the best cabin boy I’d ever
have. If I’d a married some fine wench, I’d wish I’d have a son like
you.”

Before the captain can get another sentence out, he
collapses, coughs one last burst of blood, and is dead. The link ends
and Paul25’s eyes are wet. … is just standing there staring at Paul25.
He looks at … with the tears of a begging child—a child begging not to
be soiled by the public revelation of his grim deed of reaping. He
doesn’t want to be known as ‘the Paul that killed’.

“He was a
really nice man,” sniffles Paul25. “I didn’t want him to die. It was so
terrible. He had no family, no one. I had to stay with him. He would
have been so lonely.” }

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About Me

Everyone has hidden talents. At some point in your childhood, you selected a fork in the road and decided which of your good talents you would pursue. My first fork led me through government funded school research, corporate funded research, finally to various bleeding edge projects in Silicon Valley. Now, I am looping backwards in time so that I can try the other fork. I am on a campaign to help kids keep those brain cells us adults no longer have. Use them or lose them.